Strength in Spirit
by WarmFuzzy
Summary: Elenwe is a strong-willed maiden of Mirkwood, unsure of her purpose. But after a tragedy, she finds her true calling- to march amongst the ranks of Mirkwood’s army. LegolasOC


Summary: Elenwe is a strong-willed maiden of Mirkwood, unsure of her purpose. But after a tragedy, she finds her true calling- to march amongst the ranks of Mirkwood's army. Legolas/OC 

Disclaimer: I own nothing that belongs to J.R.R Tolkien. I only own Elenwe, Marudiel, and any other unfamiliar characters that will appear throughout soon. 

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A/N: Wow, I am in utter shock. I actually got around to writing a story! My first LOTR story. Whoo. It's similar in plot to the story Mulan, but there are countless differences that set them apart. Please review! Constructive criticism is always welcome, but flames are not.

(_Note_: Yes, this is a rewrite, because the first 'SIS' I wrote was incredibly awful, and I didn't feel as if it did any justice to Elenwe's character. I will be taking it down shortly, and I promise this one is much better. J Please enjoy.)

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"Madam, I know, this looks…bad…" she uttered in a tremulous voice, turning to face the officious crowd that had gathered behind the mahogany door frame. The young Elven woman stood pigeon-toed, her knees slightly bent, looming over a pile of shattered porcelain. Her emerald eyes were bugged and full of anxiety as she anxiously awaited a response from the elder woman standing before her in the doorway, who's face had taken a horizontal angle, which seemed to be slipping slightly downward with every passing second. 

Clutched in the young elf 's trembling hands was a silver tray, turned obscurely towards the floor, creating a platform just steep enough to allow the entire council's dinner, dishes and all, to slip off, and splinter to the floor with a loud, shrieking crash. Her face went pale, paler than usual, and her typical cheery expression has been replaced with a daunting, petrified glance. Her soft lips were rounded and her eyes big, as she glared down at the mess that would almost certainly bring disaster.

"Elenwe!" the elder woman piqued, tightening her fists at her sides to suppress her rage. Elenwe cringed in place as her name was voiced in such a demeaning manner, and straightened up, letting her arms relax and the large silver platter she held rest against her body. The Elven woman's booming remark rang through the underground palace and reverberated against the walls, letting even the highest up know how much trouble the young maiden was in. Elenwe sighed deeply, and accepted the annotations directed at her. 

"I am deeply sorry, madam, Lady Uthimiel, for it was an accident…I was bringing the tray to the table, when I lost my grip…and it… slipped and fell…" she hastily replied to her Elven headmistress in hopes of redeeming herself. Uthimiel, who was the overseer of the kitchen and victual arts of Mirkwood's palace, stood before a crowd of nosy chambermaids, all of whom has ceased their duties for a moment to peek behind their elder to try to catch a glimpse of the recent commotion currently unfolding in the kitchen. When she was unable to further supplement her explanation, Elenwe turned her golden head downward and surveyed the ground, looking away from the white-specked pheasant dinner that now adorned the wooden-laden floor. She clenched her eyes tightly shut in anticipation of the elder elf's unwelcome response. 

"'Accident?' 'Slipped and fell?' Surely, you do not believe this justifies your actions?" Elenwe shook her head feverishly, her eyebrows perked, knowing that was the response the elder Uthimiel requested. "Aye, I doubt the craftsman and potters can produce dishes as quickly as you can shatter them, and with you as a palace servant, I believe they will have their work cut out for them." She sneered grimly towards Elenwe, who met her nefarious glance, but turned away sharply as the older elf's eyes burned deeply into her soul "What's more," she continued, "I doubt your hands would be so clumsy if they were not so calloused and swollen from yielding a sword all day long," Uthimiel jeered, as if this was a wretched act to be committed by a she-elf. Her comment evoked some soft snickers in the young Elven women standing behind her, but with one quick jolt of the elder's head, they were silenced once more. 

The young she-elf rang the hem of her dress, and drew her shoulders up. Somehow, Uthimiel had figured out how Elenwe spent her free time, and was now publicly harassing her about it. 'Sure, it is true…but her way of life is no better than mine…' Elenwe wondered, and it became one of the many gathering thoughts in her head. The remarks struck a chord within her, and a knot formed in her throat. She did not want her pride and routine to be torn apart overtly like is currently was. 

"I can clean it up- I can fix all this. I will begin dinner immediately, if you have someone inform the council that their food will arrive a little late this evening," Elenwe said sternly , hopeful, despite her discourteous remarks, that Uthimiel would accept her offer. She set the tray on a nearby counter, and wiped her hands on her stiff, verdant dress.

"Cease," cried the Elven elder tightly, her hand held up level to her face, drawing a fist. Elenwe caught her attention. "I will have no more of it. Had this been the first time, I would have excused you. Had it been the second, or even the third, and you would have gotten off with nothing more than a little additional work. But seeing as this is your countless offense, you dropping things, breaking bowls, scorching food, I believe your work here is done." 

Elenwe's eyes darted across the room, her jaw dropped, and she felt panic-stricken. Surely this didn't mean what she thought it did. It had happened so abruptly. Uthimiel couldn't release her. Elenwe was a good, decent worker. She never "tested" the food when no one was looking; she never stole sugar and pies home like some of the other she-elves had developed a reputation for doing. Elenwe stood in disbelief, stumbling to find the correct words to defend her position, and keep her place as a palace maiden. But she couldn't even discern her conflicting emotions at the moment, and convincing Uthimiel was not an easy task.

"Madam, I, you, it was an…you cannot!" Elenwe blurted out, the lump in her throat growing bigger. Anger arose inside of her at that moment; towards Uthimiel, the other elf-maidens, and even her clumsy self. Her expression was riddled with shock, and her eyes were flooded with tears. She fought to hold them back, to hold herself back from the actions she knew she was capable of carrying out. And all because of a faulty dinner tray. 

"Pardon, young lady, but you have had too many strikes against you," Uthimiel started, seeing the troubled expression form on the elf-maiden's face. "Therial, dear, please begin dinner hastily, for I do not wish to keep the royal council waiting any longer than they have been. Elenwe, I will have another chambermaid clean up the mess you have made. As of this evening, you are dismissed. Permanently. I am sorry, but I see you as more of a burden here than a help, and we will accomplish nothing for anyone if you continue to get in the way. Please do not take it as an offensive gesture, and follow me to the door." 

Elenwe sucked in her hard feelings and swallowed them, unsure of how to react at that instant as she moved solemnly through a path of chambermaids, obeying the elder elves orders. She wanted to argue her position, but she knew it was a futile attempt, for arguing with an elder was an even more disrespectful act. Her eyes glistened with tears, and she clutched the fabric of her dress at her chest. She bit her lip, and her forehead was creased, and she was unsure of what to do now. She heard the gaggle of she-elves whisper and talk as she and the headmistress passed through them, and took little notice to their unscrupulous comments. She felt as if she was being led to the gallows, stripped of her dignity and her right to voice an objection. The last events had spun by so quickly, and as the realization started to set in, silence swept over her.

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Mutely she followed as she was led down a familiar corridor, with doors that sprouted off in every possible direction like the paths within an anthill, each leading to its own respective dining or recreation room, each more elegant than the last. She knew where every one led. She'd been through them so many times, serving dinner and desserts to the most noble of elves, and even those of other races. Some of her fondest memories were of lingering in the rooms after they had finished dining to hear their magnificent tales of war and turmoil. They interested her somehow, but she knew asking them directly of their ventures would seem out of line; an inquisitive servant girl was not polite; but nonetheless, she held her tongue and instead dreamed of the day when she could someday be among them and experience the rush of adventure that seemed to be so common in their lifestyle.

Her head was hung low as she thought again about the council members who would not be receiving their meal on time this evening, and she was over swept with anger and remorse. But she was also thoroughly racked with sadness, for she world no longer be able to work the kitchens of Mirkwood anymore, which she had recently developed a subtle passion for. Elenwe may not have been the most productive maiden, but she was cooperative and did what she was asked without confrontation. And whenever she did make a mistake, she was quick to correct it. Why was this infraction any different?

They reached a door at the end of a long hallway, away from the chambermaids and the kitchens, and Uthimiel turned to face her, obviously with some words at the tip of her tongue.

"Elenwe, I am truly remorseful to let you go…" Elenwe wanted to roll her eyes at Uthimiel's words, or give her a detestable stare, but she fought the urge and resisted, knowing that would not help her situation any. " …but I have a function to maintain, and I cannot have you interrupting it constantly. You will learn, eventually, that everyone has a purpose. The male elves, they fight wars, they defend our establishments, and we continue onward in exultant bliss." A smile crossed her lips as she explained her old age, simplistic views.

"The women, you and I, the she-elves; we are to stay at home, and help our civilization grow. We bring to life the flowers, the trees…the children. We prepare life for and serve the warriors, so that when their time comes, we know we are protected." Uthimiel's grin had become a beaming smile now, for she obviously felt very strong about her views. Elenwe, on the other hand, felt the sudden urge to throw-up, but she still remained silent. But it crossed her mind that Uthimiel was using this as an opportune time to lecture her on life's objectives.

"Now you, young she-elf, you seem to have lost your place," Uthimiel said, her tone becoming darker. She squinted her eyes and locked her gaze to Elenwe's. Elenwe was puzzled. 'What does she mean, lost?' she pondered, as the Lady continued. "When you should be cooking, sewing, or learning to mend, you are outside, fiddling with one of your silly little swords, in a futile attempt to seem powerful. I have seen you, from atop my flet, high in the trees. You have been misguided, and I believe you need someone to steer you in the right path." Uthimiel glared smugly at her, as if she were disapproving the young elf's lifestyle. Elenwe blushed slightly, but her eyes were turning downward as the anger within her boiled. 

"That is why I have chosen to dismiss you. You are a distraction. I do not believe your head is in the right place, and it is affecting you duties. You seem to be too caught up in the outside world, defense, fighting…the morbid arts, when there is so much you could be improving upon right now. I mean, look at you!" Uthimiel jolted, waving her hands about wildly. An irritated young elf looked down at herself to see what about her was so offensive to the elder who had so many years behind her. "You wear the attire of a common woman!" she jeered, peering over the elf girl's patchy, rather dingy green dress. "As I said before, I believe you do not know your place in society. Why not indulge in your culture, and be what you have been taught to, instead of a fumbling servant who cannot even hold a dinner tray?" 

Uthimiel's features held an absurd stare, as if she'd finally released the pent-up emotions and feelings she'd had toward the Elven chambermaid all of these years. Something finally snapped in Elenwe as well, and she felt her forehead grow hot and her rage build as she realized she was not being released for being a poor worker, but for being different. When other maidens were inside, stitching a hem or preparing a meal, Elenwe was outdoors in the woods, practicing the fine arts of Elven defense. And apparently, Uthimiel was affronted, for she obviously did not want this kind of diversion in her society. It was too much for the young she-elf.

"I have lost my place? I know precisely where I am!" she blurted, tears forming in her eyes once again. It took a lot of courage, more than she thought she possessed, to finally confront Uthimiel and defend herself. "It is you who does not know where their place is, and I can tell you now, it is not to be telling me where I am supposed to be!" 

Her face was hot and her cheeks dampened, but she felt better now than she had in the chilly silence. Uthimiel was taken aback. Never before had a chambermaid spoken to her like this. But, never before had she faced one with Elenwe's stubborn temperament. She shot her an angry glance, and was about to open her mouth to speak once more, when she was cut off. 

"And," Elenwe started, her voice quaky and her head held high. "I like my lifestyle. I enjoy how I live, and your convictions will not keep me from it! I am glad I was dismissed, for now I may find my true calling, wherever or whatever it may be!" She turned away swiftly, and exited the door at the end of the corridor, closing it quickly from the other side so that she would no longer be face to face with Uthimiel. The headmistress stood in shock, but expelled a grumble before turning opposite the door towards the kitchens. Dinner would be ready soon.

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A/N: This story chapter was originally very long (over 5000 words), but I cut it in half, and made it into two chapters to make it easier on the readers. Chapter 2 will be posted, like, tomorrow if I get enough feedback, cuz I've already written it. J More characterization and mood in next chapter, so I'll hurry! Please review, and include any constructive criticism you may have. Thank you!


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